Heart wrenching, Thea turned to Gabriel. “Can’t you speak to Blackwood, darling?”
“Me?” He looked as appalled as a stoic man could look.
“You and Mr. Malcolm together. You were her colleagues, after all,” Thea said encouragingly. “Surely if the two of you pled Pandora’s case, told her husband what a true heroine she was during the war, he’d listen.”
“If he doesn’t shoot us dead first,” Malcolm muttered. “Trust me, no man wants to hear about his wife’s past from other men.”
“But we’ll do it.” Gabriel cleared his throat. “If you wish us to, Pandora.”
“Thank you, but no. I made this mess, and it’s up to me to fix it.” The marchioness sat up straight, her face tear-stained but determined. “I shall find a way to win my husband back.”
“You always were a fighter,” Malcolm said, “and a damned fine one at that.”
“Enough of my woes. Let us talk of happier news.” With determined cheer, she said, “When is the wedding to take place?”
Gabriel’s arm tightened around Thea’s waist. “Next Saturday.”
“You’re invited,” Thea hastened to say. “Everyone here is. We haven’t gotten around to invitations given… well…”
“You’ve been a bit busy.” Pandora’s tone was dry.
“You’ll come, won’t you?” Thea said anxiously. “Pandora? Malcolm?”
“To see our old boy embark upon the most important mission of his life?” Malcolm winked. “We wouldn’t miss it for all the secrets in the world, my dear.”
Chapter Forty-One
A week later, Gabriel knocked, and the sound of Thea’s lovely voice giving him entrance filled him with satisfaction. Anticipation simmered in his blood. Beneath his silk dressing gown, he was already hard for his wife. His love.
Opening the adjoining door, he entered the lavish chamber done in shades of ivory and gold. He’d secured them the finest suite at Mivart’s for their wedding night. There wasn’t to be much of a honeymoon trip as they were heading back to Oakhurst in three days, so he thought they could make do with a weekend stay at the hotel. The Strathavens had offered to look after Freddy, so that Gabriel and Thea could have time alone.
Gabriel intended to make the most of the time. His chest warmed at the pretty picture Thea made combing her hair before the vanity. She looked like a princess in her snowy robe with a fall of lace at the neckline and cuffs, her hair a shining cascade down her back. When he went to stand behind her, she smiled at him in the looking glass.
He threaded his fingers through her luxuriant tresses. “I like your hair down, Lady Tremont,” he murmured. “Especially since I’m the only man who gets to see it this way.”
“Possessive, are you?” Her eyes twinkled up at him.
“You know that I am.” He took the brush from her hands. “And you know that you love it.”
Her blush was a glorious thing, sunset spreading up her smooth white throat and porcelain cheeks. He ran the bristles through her locks, savoring the way she shivered at his touch.
The domesticity of the moment struck him. He was combing his wife’s hair. He wasn’t holding a blade, pistol, or instrument of killing; that time was finally over. Because of Thea, he was finally getting his fresh start. And he was determined to begin this chapter right.
“Goodness, that’s nice.” She sighed, her neck arching a little. “The wedding went well, don’t you think?”
“Hmm,” he said absently.
He was searching for words, the best way to share the results of his soul-searching over the past few days. Intimacy still didn’t come easily for him; perhaps it never would. For Thea, however, he was willing to try. Willing, in truth, to do anything.
“My favorite part was the throwing of the bouquet. Did you see Violet’s face when she caught it?” Thea chuckled. “She looked like she’d bitten into a lemon.”
Amused in spite of himself, he said, “Didn’t she want to catch it?”
“She wanted towin.This will teach her that there are consequences to being competitive.” Thea swiveled around to look at him. “Which was your favorite part of the wedding?”
“The part that made you my wife.” He set the brush down with a decisive click. “Thea, there’s something I wish to discuss.”
“Yes?”
